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1.3.5-Kingedmundsroyalmurder
Brick!club chapter 5: of Parisians and patriotism Look, a chapter designed to glorify Parisians! Which is cool — I’m currently lost in a wave of nostalgia for la France so that didn’t help much, but whatever. (This happens to me regularly. I am approximately 1000 times more patriotic about France than I am the States, though not usually about Paris, since I’ve only been once.) Anyway, yeah. Not much happens here so let’s talk about verbs. Or, more exactly, let’s talk about some of the great French verbs in this chapter. We’ve got attablés, and endimanchés, and fleurdelysés, and dépave. Like, literally, those are verbs that mean, respectively, sat down around a table, wearing their Sunday clothes, wearing fleurs de lys, and ripping up pave stones. I’m not sure why I’m so delighted that these words exist, but I really, really am. And since I’m not being particularly serious and grinning about language, let’s add on the hair filled with wrath and the lung capacity to bend the Alps. Apparently Valjean isn’t the only one with super-powers around here. To be more serious, clearly the point of this chapter is not just to fanboy about Parisians but to point out how out of touch the government is with its people. The police prefect clearly doesn’t think the Parisians capable of another uprising, which is a dangerous assumption on his part. Basically he thinks this about them: “Ils sont insouciants et indolents comme des chats. Le bas peuple des provinces est remuant, celui de Paris ne l’est pas. Ce sont tous petits hommes.” (They’re carefree and indolent like cats. The base people of the provinces is restless, that of Paris is not. They are small men.) Which, given where this book is going, is a dangerous statement to make, especially since we’ve got the earlier revolts before ‘32 to deal with as well. Nothing good comes of insulting the people you’re meant to be protecting. Which is basically what Hugo spends the rest of the chapter explaining. Cats can become lions when provoked (and even cats aren’t always lazy and easy-going). His main point is basically this: "Si l’heure sonne, ce faubourien va grandir, ce petit homme va se lever, et il regardera d’une façon terrible, et son souffle deviendra tempête, et il sortira de cette pauvre poitrine grêle assez de vent pour déranger les plis des Alpes." (If the time comes, this suburban man will rise, and he will look around in a terrible fashion, and his breath will become a storm, and from his poor skinny chest will come enough wind to alter the folds of the Alps.) In other words, never taunt a sleeping dragon, no matter how cute or harmless he looks beforehand. Also this: “Tant qu’il n’a pour refrain que la Carmagnole, il ne renverse que Louis XVI; faites-lui chanter la Marseillaise, il délivrera le monde.” (So long as he sings only the Carmagnole he deposes only Louis XVI; make him sing the Marseillaise and he will deliver the world.) I don’t know how many of you are familiar with the lyrics of the Marseillaise, but yeah, it’s a good song to sing when delivering the world through battle. (I actually headcanon that do you hear the people sing is partly referencing it. Because it is very much a song of angry men. Here’s the bit that everyone knows: To arms, citizens, ''Form your battalions, ''Let us march, let us march! ''So that an impure blood ''Will water our furrows! Not a song of peace, oh no.) Commentary '''Pilferingapples' Reblogging for songs and wonderful verbness. :) At least having a verb for ‘sitting at a table’ makes sense in the everyday run of things..il depave, though. I’m not getting over that one.